by Niles, Abby
If the cops hadn’t bought her story, he sure as hell wouldn’t, and he’d get all protective on her ass. With everything she was dealing with, she didn’t need that right now. He wasn’t scheduled back from his vacation until tomorrow afternoon, so it gave her some time to figure out how to handle him.
“Miss Michaels?” the officer said. “Are you ready?”
She blinked and shot a glance at him. “Uh…yeah. Sorry.”
Taking another deep breath, she opened the cruiser door, climbed out, and withdrew the crutches from the backseat. Slowly she made her way up the path to the front door.
After she unlocked the door and let it swing open, the officer made to step inside. She shook her head. She had to face this alone. “I’m fine.”
“Let me make a quick sweep of the house, okay? Then I’ll let you get adjusted.”
The words were said softly, kindly, as though he understood what she needed. She was thankful for that. Nodding, she shuffled backward to allow him inside. A few minutes later, he returned. “All’s clear. No chemical scents or shifter residue. I’ll be out in the cruiser until the unmarked car gets here to cover you. If you need anything, let me know.”
Ava waited for him to reach the car before she stepped inside and closed the door. Everything looked the same. Nothing out of place. As homey as ever. But there was a sinister feeling in the air now. No amount of leaving the lights on would make her feel safe now. Even with the sunlight pouring in through the windows, the house made her feel trapped, closed in, shut off from the outside. Flurries of anxiety rippled through her chest, her vision tunneled, and she closed her eyes.
She would not have a panic attack.
This is your home. He will not take that away from you.
The suffocating sensation lessened, and she opened her eyes and looked at the staircase. How had she puttered around this house, completely unaware that a man had been waiting for her upstairs?
Taking one step at a time, she made her way up to the second floor landing and paused outside her bedroom. The door was shut. She reached for the knob, then fisted her fingers, hesitating.
She hated the hesitation. Hated how she was creeping around her own house as if she had done something wrong.
Grabbing hold of the knob, she used her crutch to push the door open, then hurried inside. Air gushed out of her lungs. The room was exactly as she’d left it, except the bed had been completely made and not turned down. No stringent cleaning solution laced the air. No foul stench of blood. Just a light spritz of the floral perfume she wore on occasion.
The SPAC team had gone out of their way to make her feel less violated. And though she appreciated the sentiment, no matter how much they tried to bandage the room, the scars were embedded in her mind. Her haven, the place she curled up to read or watch TV, or just relax, would never be the same.
She stepped further into the room, staring at the spot where two days ago she’d spun around to find a masked man standing behind her. Where everything had changed, where she’d been certain she was about to die. And she had—to Liam.
Where had she been when he’d found her? Had she been crumpled against the wall the man had held her pinned to by the neck? Or was she in the middle of the room, lying in a puddle of blood?
What had Liam felt when he’d found her?
Anguish, for certain. Just imagining what it would be like for her to find Liam, lifeless, covered in blood, caused her intense agony.
The song It’s Five O’clock Somewhere floated into the air, making her gaze snap to the cell phone on her nightstand beside her. The number was unfamiliar. Like always. A different one each and every time he’d called. A burner phone, he’d said. Untraceable. And how right he’d been. The only information she’d ever been able to find on the numbers were the cell provider and general location.
As fear threatened to consume her, her throat started to close. She shoved the feeling aside. How many times had she given out her phone number in the last twelve hours? It was probably just Detective Calhoun making sure she got settled in okay. That reminder didn’t stop the tremor in her hands as she picked it up. “H-hello?”
“I’m not very happy with you, right now,” a distorted mechanical voice said.
“I—”
“You weren’t supposed to escape.”
The mechanical voice had disappeared. The last sentence had been delivered with a soft Cajun accent. Her strength gave out and she dropped onto the edge of the bed.
“It was you all along. W-why did you let me believe otherwise?”
“This wasn’t a reunion for you and Liam, Ava. It was a final goodbye. One that was supposed to end filled with doubt and mistrust.”
“You failed.”
“Obviously.” He laughed softly, but there was no real humor in the sound. “Do you realize that Emma was the safest she’s been while you were locked up? Now I have to refocus on her again to get my plan back on track.”
“Why are bringing me and my sister into this? If this is between you and Liam, leave it between you and Liam.”
Not that she wanted anything horrible to happen to Liam—she just wanted her sister to be safe damn it.
“That’s not the punishment I’m looking for. Doing something to him is too lenient. But if I punish you for his crimes…well, that carries a lifetime sentence.”
Was his ultimate plan to kill her so Liam had to live with the guilt? The thought horrified her.
“Why did you make me leave him if killing me was your plan all along?”
“Ava,” he softly chided. “The last eight months have been nothing more than a holding cell, a place to wait, until it was time for your execution…instead you escaped. You’ve put your sister in very grave danger because of that.”
Ava tightened her grip on the phone. “Leave her alone.”
“And I will, just like I always have…as long as you stay away from Liam.” He paused a moment before continuing, “I know SPAC is following your sister. I do understand your need to protect her, and I respect that. Please be my guest, tell them about this phone call, give them the number…they won’t be able to find me. But I will find Emma. I’m asking for one simple thing to keep her safe. Stay away from him. The decision is yours.”
Then the line went dead.
She stood, holding the phone in her hand. As the facts sank in, her body shook. He was watching her, had known the moment she walked back into the house and that her sister was under protection.
He knew everything. As always.
Why was her distance from Liam so important? Did he just like seeing her hurt him? Watching Liam hurt?
A banging at the front door made her heart climb to her throat. Stop it! He wasn’t going to knock. If he showed, the bastard would suddenly just be there.
The banging intensified. She hobbled downstairs and yanked the door open. Liam stood there, fuming, nostrils flaring like some enraged ape.
“Why the hell did you leave the hospital without me?” he demanded.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t realize I had to wait for you.”
“Don’t be stupid, Ava. There’s a man out there who wants you dead.”
“I was escorted here by SPAC. I think I was pretty damn safe.”
“Not safe enough. I’m staying here with you.”
“The hell you are.” ”
“It’s my fault you were brought into this to begin with. I’ll make sure you’re safe, and when we catch this guy I’ll leave.”
Emma had already suffered at the hands of this man twice.
And now Ava knew firsthand he had no qualms about beating a woman unconscious. The idea of him doing the same to her little sister…her heart twisted.
That would never happen.
She’d feed whatever information she could to SPAC to help them find this lunatic, but she would so whatever she needed to make certain Emma was safe, and if that meant she had to stay away from Liam until they found him, then she would, no
matter how much it hurt.
Steeling her regrets, she looked Liam directly in the eyes.
“I was tortured. Beaten, strangled, drugged” She waved the phone she still clutched in her hand. “He’s already called me and let me know he was coming after me…because of you. Why would I want the reason for my abduction in the same house as me?
He paled, but as she suspected he would, he snatched the phone from her hand. “I won’t leave you defenseless.”
“I’m not defenseless.” She nodded toward the front yard. “I have one of your own people watching the house at all times.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“You’re not coming inside.”
“Then I’ll stay outside.”
“Do what you want, but you’re not stepping a foot inside this house.”
She slammed the door in his face, and almost broke down when the crash of the latch echoed around the room. Pressing a shaking hand to her mouth, she peeked out the window. Liam had retreated to sit on the top step of her porch, his elbows braced on his knees, head bent forward with his hands laced behind his neck.
The epitome of a man refused. Deserted.
Pain and regret burning away at her insides, she closed her eyes. All she could hope was that one day she’d be able to take his hurt away, be able to confide in him about everything. But until that day came, she’d stay silent to keep her sister safe.
Chapter 7
Four hours later, Ava lifted the soup pot off the stove and shuffled toward the sink, wincing as her ankle throbbed in protest. The pulse of pain had become more persistent since she’d entered the kitchen and propped her crutches against the wall so she could cook. She should probably rest, put her foot up, but every time she sat down, her mind started wandering to places she’d rather steer clear of.
Liam. Emma. The kidnapping.
The kidnapping was the worst. Those horrible thoughts magnified every creak of the house until she was a tense and jumpy mess. To keep busy, she called the coffee shop and checked in. Becky, one of her waitresses, had said everything was going fine, but everyone was asking about her and wished her a speedy recovery. The sentiment had made her a smile. Unfortunately, the call hadn’t lasted long and she was back to jumping at creepy creaks throughout the house within ten minutes.
She’d finally turned the volume up high on the television so all she could hear was the booming of The Big Bang Theory and Sheldon’s antics. Comedy was good. Laughter was needed. But tonight, the sitcom that always brought forth belly-laughs couldn’t even get her to crack a smile.
Couldn’t wash away the fear, worry, and…guilt.
She’d finally admitted defeat and hobbled into the kitchen, leaving the show on in the background. She didn’t know what she was looking for, why she’d gone in there. She wasn’t hungry or even thirsty, but as soon as she opened the refrigerator and found the whole chicken she’d placed in there to defrost for dinner this week, she knew what to do to keep busy. Chopping onions, celery, and carrots, and washing the chicken had cleared her mind, helped her relax. Helped her wait for Emma. Though she did keep glancing at the clock every few minutes, watching the time tick by since they’d spoken on the phone hours ago.
I’ll be home soon. Jessica and I are in the middle of something.
That had been Emma’s excuse for not coming home straight away. Not that she’d enlightened Ava on what that something was. More than likely that something was nothing, and Emma was pretty much telling her that she was in no rush to see her.
At first the thought had hurt, but Ava pushed it away, reminding herself the last few days had been rough on her sister, too, and if she needed to do this slowly then Ava would let her. In the end, Emma’s reluctance to come home had been a blessing in disguise. The house smelled of chicken soup and pumpkin gooey butter cake—her most popular dessert at the coffee shop.
It smelled like home.
When Emma walked in that door, she would walk into routine. As though nothing had changed. As though the last couple of days hadn’t happened. They needed that, even if it lasted for only a few seconds. At least for Ava. Once that door closed behind her sister, it would be the two of them inside, while Liam sat outside alone.
Every now and then, a compulsive urge to check if he was still there would come over her and she’d limp over to the window and peek out. And every time, he was still there, sitting with his elbows braced on his knees, his fingers entwined, staring out across the yard. And every damn time, pain knifed through her sharper than any real blade could inflict, and she wanted to take back every mean thing she’d said.
She shoved her thoughts away. She’d made her decision. No going back now.
After straining the broth, she picked the chicken meat off the bone before she placed the soup back on the stove. Wiping her hands on a dishrag, she hobbled back into the living room just as the front door opened.
Emma walked in, frowning as she looked back at a German shepherd trotting in after her. At the dog’s presence, Ava blinked. “Who’s your friend?”
When her sister turned around, her color dropped a few shades and she swallowed, her eyes immediately going to the carpet as long, strawberry blond hair fell forward to curtain her face.
“You look like crap, sis,” she muttered.
“Thanks for that.” Ava had deliberately put on a long-sleeved shirt with a high neck so the worst of the damage was covered, but there wasn’t anything she could do about her puffy, purple cheek, or the dark bruise that had formed under her right eye.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked as she scratched the dog on top of the head.
“Sore, but yeah, I’m fine. Where did the dog come from?”
She shrugged, keeping her focus on the dog’s head. “Just showed up yesterday, wouldn’t leave me alone. Even followed me to school today and stayed outside. He’s really sweet. You don’t mind if he stays do you?”
Wow. So this was how SPAC put a detail on someone unknowingly. Definitely effective. As much as she was grateful that in animal form this officer would be with her sister pretty constantly, she saw a potential problem: attachment. “If he’s that sweet, honey, he probably belongs to someone.”
Another shrug. “Yeah, I know, but can he stay until we find his family?”
Most likely as soon as SPAC found the kidnapper, there’d be missing dog posters plastered everywhere. “As long as you understand that the moment we know who his family is he has to go home.”
“Okay.”
An awkward silence followed. Ava bit her bottom lip, uncertain what to do or say. Her sister was so closed off…distant. Giving the impression that if Ava made the wrong move Emma would bolt right back out the door. Not that she expected her sister to tackle-hug her when she’d come home. Never the overly affectionate type, a quick peck on the cheek as she was rushing out the door was as mushy as her sister got.
But this tension between them was new and disconcerting.
Emma glanced at the front door, brows drawn together. “Why is Liam sitting on the porch?”
“He heard about the accident.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“We broke up. Just because I was hurt doesn’t mean I’m just going to open my door to him again.”
When Emma walked across the room and plopped onto the couch, the dog followed her and sat at her side on the floor. “I never understood why you guys broke up. You seemed really into each other.”
And she never would. Ava would make certain of that.
“Relationships fizzle, hon.” She cautiously moved closer to her sister, wanting to be near her, but when she tensed, Ava stopped. Why did she refuse to look at her?
“I guess. Still doesn’t make a lot of sense. You were always so happy when you were with him. You didn’t seem too happy afterward.”
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Liam Inhaling, she sat beside her sister on the couch, who then scooted further into the corner away from her.
The movement hurt. “Emma. Are you okay?”
She fiddled with the end of her black concert T-shirt. “Yep.”
“I’m sorry about what happened.”
Yet another shrug and Ava almost groaned in frustration. “You couldn’t help it.”
“Come on, Emma, talk to me.”
“Nuttin’ to talk about.”
“Please. The last couple of days couldn’t have been easy for you.”
There was a long silence before three barely whispered words came out of her sister’s mouth. “You scared me.” She angrily wiped her palm across her cheek before going back to toy with the hem of her shirt.
Just like that, Emma was no longer a fifteen-year-old teenager determined to show no feelings, but a frightened child who didn’t know what to do with the emotions inside her. Why she wouldn’t look at Ava suddenly made sense. She didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to relive the last couple of days. Wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. And the bruises on her face kept her sister from doing so.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t call to check in. You never came home. You never do that. Why would you go hiking without your stupid phone, anyway?”
Good question. “I just needed some air and went for a walk. I thought I’d be back before you got home.”
So many lies.
“Don’t do something that dumb again.”
Unable to make that promise, she reached over and squeezed Emma’s hand. None of them knew what the future held. And until this bastard was caught, Ava’s was definitely not hopeful. She just needed to make sure her sister’s was.
When her sister finally lifted her head and made eye contact, Ava’s breath left her in one forceful gush. The toll of the last few days was evident on her haunted face. Dark, puffy circles underlined her hazel eyes. The tip of her nose was red.
She’d been crying. A lot.
She gathered her sister in her arms and held tight, as Britton had for her. And the action had the same effect. Little sniffles quickly escalated to hard sobs. Tears blinded her vision as she hugged Emma closer, letting her get it all out.
When her sister pulled back, she rubbed a fist against her eyes like a child does when sleepy, and Ava wanted to tug her back in her arms and shield her from the evil in the world.
